Note 245

when we’re old and grey and holding onto the million memory trails we’ve felt along the road of this lifetime, I want you to remember that it all started with a smile or 2. that it all kick started that day you wrapped yourself around my arm and found shelter on my shoulder. we’re still young and going through a growing process, but I pray to you that we grow old in the process together but remains young lovers at heart for a few more lifetimes.
when we’re 15 years into our marriage with the miniature clones of our beings running around the house may we remember the day we locked souls and made our words a reality through the waves the ocean  of this life journey. that your mouth parting ways and your voice dancing through the air brought tears to my eyes and tempted me to kneel before you once more. and we still look at each other and those thousand floods of butterflies move in between our organs.
when we’re young, naive and hopelessly infatuated in what we could be, can we not forget what we already are. young lovers who’ve pinky promised by their hearts to make things work through and through to get where we want to. I want to grow, not just old, but I want to grow in love with you. fall in love with all the bad things that make you perfect, so please, just stay. hold my hand the same way you’ll hold onto my life’s plans and dreams.
when we first discover the trillion ways that our souls match up to create fire with a single stare at first, with my breath struggling to escape to run and catch your attention. how I’ll mumble and shallow a dozen of my words because I’ll over think every second word and how you’ll laugh and think I’m fool. a fool that would be proud to be yours.